Follow the Dragon
by faithwood
Summary: Harry Potter has a secret admirer. Oh, who could it be? HPDM. Slash. Fluff. Hogwarts!fic. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.  
**Title: **Follow the Dragon  
**Pairing: **Harry/Draco  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Word Count: **2000  
**Status: **Complete  
**Summary: **Harry Potter has a secret admirer. Oh, who could it be?  
**Note: **Written for b-day prompt - _Quidditch Pitch, Snow, Dragon stuffed animal_

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Follow the Dragon

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_Follow the dragon._

That was what the note said. And that was why Harry was outside on the biting cold, traipsing through the high snow and following the stuffed green animal flying in front of him. Perhaps it would be more sensible to feel annoyed at this turn of events, but the truth was, Harry was very much excited.

For the last couple of weeks, Harry had received a bunch of presents as well as letters from an unknown admirer. It was hardly unusual for Harry to receive presents from strangers, but these particular presents were different. Whoever sent them apparently knew exactly what Harry liked. The food related presents constituted of Harry's favourite sweets and beverages, the school related stuff were always things that Harry just ran out off, and then there were the Quidditch related gifts, like gloves and quality broom-polish and on one occasion a lovely, expensive-looking Golden Snitch.

But it wasn't just the presents that captured Harry's attention. Mostly, Harry was excited about the letters. At first they were sweet; depicting possible scenarios of what the admirer would do _with_ Harry. About where he (for it was a he) would take him (all over the world, apparently) and what he wanted to show him (the said world and more, whatever that meant). But then the letters turned bolder, describing what their writer would do _to_ Harry. They had recounted in detail how he would show Harry exactly how much he wanted him, using jam and silky ties among other things.

Harry blushed, remembering some of the more wild letters that made him cast Silencing Spells on his curtains and wank himself into oblivion. Yes, he had really enjoyed reading those letters.

Harry looked up at the flying dragon, making sure that the toy didn't leave his sight. The dragon was still there, flapping his fluffy wings, and heading towards the Quidditch Pitch as far as Harry could tell.

This was of course the time to make a decision. The admirer promised Harry that they would meet today. And well, now that the meeting was about to happen, Harry was no longer sure that this was such a good idea. He had never breathed a word about this to anyone, knowing in advance what they would say. Certainly, Ron and Hermione would tell him he was mad for believing wild promises of a stranger. But the thing was, Harry hadn't believed it — he was merely curious. It was of course, possible that this was some starry-eyed but eloquent fourth-year, but the person in the letters sounded so intriguing. And well, imaginative.

Harry reached the middle of the Quidditch Pitch when the dragon stopped and then shot up high in the air. Harry looked up, confused, wondering whether he should have taken his broom. How the hell could he follow the dragon otherwise? Really, the instructions should have been clearer.

Suddenly, gloved hands pressed on each side on Harry's head from behind. Startled, Harry reached for his wand and tried to turn around.

"No! Don't look. Not yet," a voice whispered.

Harry froze, his heart hammering wildly. He knew that voice, but he just couldn't place it. There was a sudden ringing in his ears and Harry's nerves were on edge. He wanted to turn around but a part of him resisted that urge. There was something exciting about not knowing who it was.

After a long, tense moment, one hand shifted and suddenly Harry's glasses were taken away. Harry's breath hitched as the lost of proper sight made him feel incredibly vulnerable. His mind kept screaming at him to turn around, but Harry didn't feel like listening to reason.

A soft silky fabric was placed over Harry's eyes and Harry shivered and clutched his wand as the person behind him tied a knot on the back of Harry's head. The world turned dark and frightening but also warm as Harry's whole body heated up.

"I ..." Harry tried. "Who are you?" he whispered.

Harry still had his wand, but it was truly frightening to lose his sight all of a sudden. He could feel snowflakes falling on his face and hear the person's shallow breathing.

The person moved — Harry knew that because he could hear the snow crunch beneath someone's boots.

"Shhh," that same familiar voice murmured and now Harry realized that the person was standing directly in front of him.

It would be so easy to just rip the fabric away from his eyes and _look_. Nothing was stopping him. But Harry liked this — not knowing who this person was or what he wanted to do to Harry. Excitement was coursing through his entire body — the kind that he hadn't felt for months, the kind that he hadn't realised he _missed_.

Warm fingers touched his face and Harry stiffened. That simple touch seemed so intimate or maybe it just felt like that because Harry was so acutely aware of it, now that his eyes weren't able to see. The fingers trailed a light trail over Harry's cheekbones and then downwards over his jaw. Then they gently touched Harry's mouth, caressing slowly, and Harry parted his lips automatically.

A warm breath ghosted over his mouth and Harry panicked just for a second. Would he really let a stranger kiss him?

Apparently he would, because his entire _treacherous_ body seized up in anticipation, and his head tipped back slightly as Harry licked and wetted his lips, waiting to be kissed.

He didn't have to wait for long. Soon enough, gentle lips pressed on his, catching Harry's bottom lip and a warm slick tongue trailed over the sensitive pink flesh, making Harry shiver.

A tongue invaded Harry's mouth and Harry was vaguely relieved that the person who was kissing him tasted _good_. Intoxicatingly good.

Harry moaned in encouragement, wanting the gentle exploration to turn into something more concrete.

Harry's wish was answered as the person grabbed the back of Harry's head and kissed him more deeply. Harry forgot to think and he let go of his wand in favour of intertwining his fingers in the surprisingly soft hair of the person who was kissing him senseless.

The kiss ended too soon, even though Harry was starting to feel dizzy as his breathing turned shallow. But he couldn't complain because those warm lips pressed tiny kisses along his jaw and then moved to kiss and suck on the spot near Harry's ear.

Harry shivered when he felt his companion do the same.

The person gasped in Harry's ear. "_Merlin_, Potter!"

Harry froze, coming to his senses at once. _He knew that voice!_

With a growl, Harry freed himself from the grip and backed away. In an instant, he took off the fabric from his eyes and pointed his wand at the blurry blond head.

"Accio glasses!" Harry screamed. His glasses flew to his hands immediately and Harry put them on, pleased that he was now able to glare at the blond in front him.

"_Malfoy?_ What the bloody hell are you doing?" Harry looked around wildly, expecting Slytherins to come out of their hiding places and start laughing at him. "What kind of a sick joke is this?" he panted out, wiping his mouth. Draco Malfoy just kissed him! And Harry had let him! Enjoyed it even!

Malfoy was standing in the same spot Harry had left him on, staring at Harry with a — for the lack of a better description — sulky expression on his face.

"It's not a joke," Malfoy said quietly.

Harry gave a sarcastic laugh. "Right. Of course not. You just randomly realized that you don't hate my guts but are actually in love with me! Yes, that makes much more sense!"

Malfoy didn't say anything, just crossed his arms on his chest and looked away.

Harry stared at Malfoy in bewilderment, still occasionally looking around expecting that someone would appear suddenly to laugh at him. But no one was around except the two of them and a fluffy dragon flying above them.

"You're ... joking. You — you must be!" Harry found himself stammering.

"Oh wash your mouth with a Scourgify, why don't you?" Malfoy snapped.

Harry realized that he had been wiping his mouth again. Suddenly that gesture seemed rude and Harry quickly lowered his hand.

Malfoy looked truly insulted and miserable.

"You hate me!" Harry argued, waving wildly around with his wand.

Malfoy glared at him for a long time and Harry expected he would confirm Harry's declaration. But instead, Malfoy said, "I don't hate you. I meant every word I said in those letters."

_The letters!_ Harry remembered suddenly, his face heating up. Merlin, all those _wicked_ things described in vivid detail! The letters that made Harry fantasise for hours in his bed. But he had imagined a man with a blurry face and ... well, blond hair, now that he thought about it, and maybe dark eyes and ... pale skin?

Oh Merlin! Oh God! Was Draco Malfoy really in Harry's mind — doing all those things to him?

Harry looked at Malfoy, really looked at him, noting the blond hair that fell freely but orderly around his face, the high cheekbones that were tinged pink, either from cold or embarrassment, Harry reflected. The lips that kissed him so ... _deliciously_ just a minute ago and the grey eyes that seemed penetrating in their intensity.

Oh God, this was not good. Why was Harry having these thoughts about Draco Malfoy of all people? This was all wrong!

"You even meant that part about the jam?" Harry heard himself say. Horrified, he pressed his lips together, hoping he wasn't blushing, but given that his face felt like it was on fire it seemed unlikely. _Merlin, what possessed him to say that?_

Malfoy blinked in surprise, but collected himself quickly. "Especially the part about the jam," Malfoy proclaim with such certainly and heat in his eyes that Harry almost believed him.

But this was much too difficult to believe. School rivals weren't supposed to wish things like that. Surely there was some rule that said that you mustn't want your rival to lick jam off your naked body. And surely, Malfoy was just lying. He couldn't have possibly wanted _Harry_.

"I ... just ... I don't trust you," Harry said truthfully, feeling somewhat miserable because of it.

Malfoy came closer, licking his lips nervously. "That's fine. I understand that. You have no reason to trust me. All I'm asking is a chance. Just one chance, Potter. Let me show you that you _can_ trust me. Come on," Malfoy's voice was almost desperate. "What do you have to lose?"

"My dignity? You just want to ridicule me," Harry said quietly.

"No! Potter, damn it," Malfoy looked truly annoyed and he actually stomped his feet, but it was possible he only did that because of the cold. "Aren't you the one that likes to take risks?" Malfoy bravely came even closer, now standing just a foot away from Harry's wand. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't like the person behind those letters. That was me, Potter. You liked _me_."

Malfoy looked so earnest, Harry's hand that held the wand shook, and he lowered it dazedly. This was just ludicrous, crazy, _impossible_ ...

A loud bang pierced the night sky and Harry looked up at the dragon that exploded in a burst of bright light. The sky was illuminated with hundreds of beads of light; some gleaming green others golden. The beads were continuously crashing down towards them but kept disappearing right before they touched them.

Harry looked at Malfoy incredulously and couldn't help laughing at Malfoy's sudden and obvious embarrassment. Malfoy stared at his feet. "I thought you'd like that." After a moment, he peeked coyly through his lowered eyelashes, smiling slightly at Harry. "Is it working?"

Harry couldn't stop grinning. "You're just ... You're _good_," Harry laughed. "Very smooth. Very convincing. And romantic, apparently."

"_Did_ I convince you?" Malfoy asked, completely serious now.

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath, watching green glimmering lights dance above Malfoy. "Merlin, help me, but yes," Harry breathed out, that Gryffindor courage serving him well. Honestly, a part of him felt like running away.

Malfoy went completely rigid and he stared at Harry in obvious shock. He hadn't moved a muscle for so long, Harry was beginning to worry. Was this a joke then? Was this the moment when everyone revealed themselves? Were they waiting for Harry to agree? Panicking, Harry clutched his wand and looked around again, feeling slightly terrified.

He almost screamed as Malfoy jumped at him suddenly. It took Harry a long moment to realize that Malfoy didn't attack him, but instead he was _kissing_ him. Malfoy was raining kisses on Harry's cheeks and his jaw and his mouth ... _mmm_ and oh, that was indeed delicious. But the kiss ended and then Malfoy nibbled Harry's ear and sucked his neck, murmuring, "You won't regret it, Potter. Merlin, I promise, you won't regret it."

Malfoy grabbed Harry's face suddenly and looked at him with the intensity that burned Harry's insides and made his knees buck. "You won't regret it," Malfoy said firmly.

Harry reached out and pulled Malfoy's head closer. As soft lips descended on his again, Harry decided to take the plunge and believe Draco Malfoy. Somehow, it really seemed possible that he wouldn't regret it.

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**Fin**

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End file.
